


The Pyrrhic Victory

by Roehrborn



Series: The Mayor, The Chief of Staff, and The Detective [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, Look I have no excuse, Multi, Oswald's all about that consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Season/Series 03, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 21:32:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10369902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roehrborn/pseuds/Roehrborn
Summary: Jim's in over his head.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **D O N T L O O K A T M E** ... I had to do it.
> 
> I don’t know what I’m doing anymore?
> 
> Enjoy???? ?? ?  
> ~R

An audience with Mayor Cobblepot is not so unusual a thing.

This is the first time he’s had Nygma in attendance, though.

“Mr. Mayor,” Jim says, voice brittle. “I wasn’t aware there would be a third party.”

Oswald takes a deep swallow of his glass of wine. He’s seated behind his desk, cane leaning against the wall behind him. Nygma stands at his left shoulder, towering above him like a particularly unwelcome scarecrow. He pushes his glasses up his nose as Oswald appears to contemplate his response.

“There is,” Oswald says finally. “Jim, I know you and Ed have had your troubles in the past--”

“--he framed me for _murder_ \--” Jim interjects.

“--but!” Oswald says, holding his index finger up, “he really did think that you were going to have him arrested.”

“I was,” Jim snaps.

The mayor spreads his arms wide, the blood-red wine in his glass almost spilling. “There you go, Jim! No wonder he was on edge. Who could blame him?”

“Oswald--”

“Didn’t you do the same, Jim?” Ed asks. Jim frowns; it’s bizarre how he sometimes sounds exactly like he used to, officious and rapid. It makes him uncomfortable. Reminds him of what he -- what they used to be. “When you were going to be convicted for killing Theo Galavan.”

“That--” Jim breaks off. There’s no easy way to say this, not with both Oswald and Nygma here. He shuts his eyes and slides back in his chair, heaving a sigh.

“Oh, it’s _different_ , right?” Oswald snips, predictably taking offense though Jim didn’t even say anything. “That’s me, and I _deserved_ Arkham, didn’t I? But _you_ don’t deserve Blackgate, because you’re you?”

“They’re completely different,” Jim growls, opening his eyes and leaning forward in his chair. “Arkham is an asylum. It _helps_ \--”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen him, Jim,” Ed insists. “You never even saw what Arkham did to him! Never had to face the consequences of your selfish actions.”

Jim throws his arms into the air. “He volunteered! I didn’t ask him to do it!”

The mayor sets his wine glass down on the surface of the desk with a clunk. The room is silent, suddenly, and Jim shifts in his seat self-consciously. Oswald’s eyes flick up to meet Nygma’s, and they stare at each other for a moment.

Jim wonders if they’re communicating silently, if they know each other well enough for that. He’d honestly never thought Ed would be the kind of person who could manage a close relationship, and certainly not with someone as capricious and moody as Oswald Cobblepot. Not without destroying each other.

Oswald smiles at Ed, expression fonder than Jim’s ever seen it.

“Listen,” Jim says gruffly. “Can we just discuss what I came here to discuss and handle all of this at another time?”

Oswald bows his head. In the low lighting, Jim can no longer see his expression. Jim’s eyes dart to Ed, but his expression is unreadable.

Oswald reaches out with one gloved hand and fiddles with the stack of papers in his inbox.

“...I’ll be honest, Jim. The complaints were a pretext.”

Jim grits his teeth. “Then why did you even call me out here?”

Oswald lifts his head and stares at Jim, eyes dark. He stands suddenly, and Ed’s hand shoots out to grasp his elbow. He smiles at Ed, one of his charming little smiles, and Ed smiles tightly back. Jim’s hands tighten on the armrests.

“Jim,” Oswald says, voice sounding rehearsed as he rounds the desk, trailing a hand along its surface to support him. Jim eyes him cautiously. “A man comes to a crossroads in his life, and he--”

“Oswald,” Ed interrupts. Jim turns his head to look at him, recognizes the amused-and-nervous crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. “Now isn’t the right time--”

“--must make a-- are you sure, Ed?”

“Very sure,” Ed says. “Just look at his face. Keep it simple for the man.”

“Simple,” Oswald says. “Right.” And Jim doesn’t know when Oswald got close enough to lean in and--

\--kiss him?!

His mouth opens against Oswald’s, in shock, but Oswald just takes it as an opportunity to explore his mouth with his tongue. His mouth is surprisingly hot, and tastes distinctly of heavy red wine. It’s shockingly alluring.

No. No, it is _not_ alluring. Jim doesn’t know where that thought came from.

Oswald’s hand, clothed in leather, comes to rest against Jim’s cheek, the smooth material catching against his five o’clock shadow. Jim suppresses a shiver. That would be misinterpreted gravely in this context.

When Oswald finally leans back, the grin he’s wearing on his face is obscene. Jim stares at him, mindless with shock.

A familiar chuckle startles him out of it. “Oh, that was good,” Ed says from a distance away.

“What-!” Jim blurts out. He jerks in his chair; he would’ve leapt out of it if it weren’t for the fact that Oswald, the _mayor_ , who has just _kissed_ him, is in the way. “You-!” He throws a helpless glance at Ed, who is standing next to the mayor’s desk, looking far too pleased with himself, with Oswald, and with the entire situation is general. “I thought you two were-!” he finally settles on, gesturing between the two of them.

Oswald throws Ed a glance that Jim thinks is supposed to be coy. “Oh, we are.”

“Y--” Jim looks between the mayor and his chief of staff, heart thumping in his chest. He still feels like he has no idea what’s happening, but one thing is becoming startlingly clear: Jim’s in over his head. “What are you trying to pull?”

“I want to be clear,” Oswald says brightly, “I don’t want to coerce you into this, Jim. You’re free to leave, if you’d like.” And he takes a few steps back, leaving Jim a clear path to stand up and leave.

And Jim’s going to. Absolutely. He’s going to get the hell out of this madhouse.

...But first, he should really clarify what, exactly, the penguin is suggesting.

“Are you -- inviting me to a threesome?” Jim asks, voice flat.

Oswald throws Ed a look. “Is that-?” he asks, voice unsure.

“That’s what they call it, yes,” Ed says. “Usually. To refer to a one-time event. Otherwise it typically falls under the umbrella of polyamory, and there are--”

“Ed, can you just--” Jim says. Ed stops and smiles at him, that wide and slightly unhinged grin. “Are you serious?”

“Yes?” Oswald says, voice mystified.

“ _Why_?”

“Why?” Oswald laughs. “Have you seen yourself, Detective Gordon?”

Yeah, sure, Jim’s seen himself, he knows he’s attractive, but really? Ed and Oswald? Two criminals who have been constant thorns in his side? Now the mayor and chief of staff, running Gotham like chessmasters?

“And to be quite honest, we’ve both had a bit of a crush on you for a long time,” Ed adds. “You could say that we finally have the opportunity to offer ourselves to you, sans strings, in slightly more legitimate circumstances than we’ve been able to in the past.”

Oswald smiles back at Ed, and turns to Jim. “Legitimate, yes. That’s an excellent way of putting it, my dearest.”

Okay. So now Jim gets it. He should get up and just -- let them know that it’s never going to happen, and leave. That’s all he has to do. Just stand up--

He rises to his feet.

\--and tell them--

“Okay,” he says.

He feels an urge to shoot himself in the leg and suppresses it.

“Really?” Oswald asks, looking up at him with an eager expression.

“...Yes,” Jim bites out through clenched teeth. “I -- yes. Okay.”

“Excellent!” Oswald says. He reaches up and wraps his hand around the nape of Jim’s neck, dragging his head down to plant Jim’s lips against his once again.

Oswald’s tongue immediately pushes between his lips, exploring his mouth with gleeful impunity. His fingers tighten on Jim’s neck, and Jim finds his own hands landing on Oswald’s waist. He’s never thought about this, before; never let himself think about it. Oswald is a very bad man: a criminal, and a murderer.

And so is Ed-- Ed, whose hands have landed on Jim’s waist, whose teeth are nibbling Jim’s ear. Jim’s gasp is captured by Oswald’s mouth. Slowly, Oswald pulls away and Jim’s eyes flutter open. He’s not sure when he even closed them.

“Let’s keep it simple,” Oswald suggests. “We _are_ in the office.”

Jim feels Ed hum in agreement against his neck, and an involuntary shiver passes through him. Oswald sees it and smiles at him, hands reaching up and grabbing Jim’s tie.

With deft fingers, he has the knot undone within moments, and he’s halfway through unbuttoning Jim’s shift when Jim blurts: “Wait!”

Oswald’s hands freeze, his eyes darting up to meet Jim’s. Is that… concern in his eyes? Seriously? Jim is sometimes astonished by the range of emotions it seems Oswald’s capable of; for a cold-blooded murderer, he certainly has quite the conscience. “No, I just mean --” Jim says, and pulls his hands away from Oswald’s hips.

Compliant, Oswald lifts his hands away from Jim’s shirt. Seemingly unconcerned, Ed’s hands begin to untuck the bottom of his shirt. Suppressing a rueful sigh, Jim quirks a smile at Oswald, reaching for his tie.

“Oh,” Oswald says quietly. His hands come to rest on Jim’s hips, tangling with Ed’s busy ones. Jim concentrates on untying Oswald’s tie and unbuttoning his jacket. The material is stiff and obviously of high quality; Jim stops a fond smile just before it makes it to his lips. Oswald has always had a certain flair for dress.

When his jacket’s unbuttoned, Oswald shrugs it off his shoulders, catching it and tossing it onto the surface of his desk with a little flourish. Ed chuckles directly into Jim’s ear, making the little hairs stand on end. Oswald smiles, a bit shyly.

Oswald’s shirt takes longer to unbutton, but in the meantime, Ed’s hands have resumed undoing Jim’s shirt. When he’s finished, Ed tugs off Jim’s jacket and shirt from behind, trapping his hands briefly, in one fluid motion. He tosses them back onto the chair as Oswald eyes Jim with a smirk. “Very nice, Jim,” he says, voice approving, and Jim rolls his eyes.

Ed sidles around in front of Jim, shucking off his own jacket and laying it on the desk next to Oswald’s. He leans back against the desk, somehow looking impossibly taller and longer than he usually does. His cheekbones look very stark in the low lighting. As Jim watches, he begins undoing his own shirt. Ed smiles at him, then catches Oswald’s eyes, jerking his chin to indicate Jim.

Oswald huffs a laugh in response, but seems to know what Ed means. He puts his hands on Jim’s chest, pushing him back gently until he falls back into the chair. Oswald rests his hands on Jim’s shoulders and settles on one of Jim’s thighs.

Jim takes the opportunity to finish the last few buttons of Oswald’s shirt. Oswald helps, shifting on Jim’s lap in order to shrug the shirt off. Suddenly Ed is there, topless, taking Oswald’s shirt off his hands and tossing it back to the pile of clothes on the desk.

There, their faces inches away from Jim’s, Ed leans down to kiss Oswald. Jim can feel the puff of air from their heavy breaths; Oswald’s fingers tighten on his shoulder. The press of his erection against his pants is beginning to become urgent, and he shifts slightly in the chair.

Without breaking the kiss, without looking at him, Ed reaches down and rests his hand against the bulge in his pants. Jim hisses in a breath, his hips jerking up involuntarily. Ed squeezes.

“Shit,” Jim moans, his head falling back against the chair.

One of them, Jim’s not sure which, laughs quietly. They break apart, and Ed pulls his hand away, stepping back. Before Jim can say anything, Oswald’s hands are on his belt, yanking it undone a little too forcefully. A hiss escapes Jim’s lips, and Oswald pats his abs in a mild apology as he continues to undo his pants and yank the zipper down. Briefly, Oswald shifts off of Jim’s lap, tugging Jim’s pants and boxers down his legs until his cock is freed, bobbing up from the nest of blond hairs.

Oswald makes a quiet noise, something like a purr, and straddles Jim’s thigh. Giving Jim a pleased smirk, Oswald leans down and wraps his lips around Jim’s cock.

“Fuck,” Jim breathes, staring down at Oswald with wide eyes. Oswald’s lips curve into a smile around Jim’s erection.

The rustle of fabric distracts him, and his eyes raise slightly to watch Ed tug down his pants and underwear in one move. Jim’s hand lands in Oswald’s hair, clutching the soft strands firmly, and he bites his lip as his eyes are drawn to Ed’s erection, hanging full and thick between his legs.

“Ozzie,” Ed murmurs, and Oswald strokes his tongue along the bottom of Jim’s erection before pulling away fully, sitting back up on Jim’s thigh. Jim leaves his hand in Oswald’s hair, tugging lightly and watching as Oswald closes his eyes in pleasure.

Ed walks up and between Jim’s legs, causing Jim to spread his legs wider. Putting one hand on Jim’s shoulder and the other on Oswald’s, Ed climbs up into Jim’s lap. Oswald holds out one arm to steady him, and Ed leans over to peck his lips briefly against Oswald’s before shifting forward so that Jim’s cock lines up along his crease.

Releasing Oswald’s shoulder, Ed reaches behind himself to hold Jim’s erection. “Don’t you need--” Jim begins, nervously, but Ed smirks and shakes his head.

“Already done,” Ed says, sounding altogether too pleased with himself.

“Oh,” Jim says, stunned. The whole time -- when they were trying to convince him -- shit.

Oswald laughs quietly, and says: “I’m afraid you may have overwhelmed him, my dearest.”

“Not yet,” Ed corrects mildly, and slowly begins to sink down onto Jim’s erection.

“Fuck,” Jim says helplessly, accidentally tugging a little too hard on Oswald’s hair. Oswald hisses out a breath and leans toward him, planting an open-mouthed kiss against his neck. His teeth graze Jim’s skin and Jim shivers.

Ed is hot and tight around him and Oswald’s sucking a hickey into Jim’s neck, and Jim lets out a low groan as he jerks his hips up against Ed. Ed gasps and smiles, and puts his weight on Jim’s shoulder in order to lift himself and drop back down onto Jim’s erection. He smirks at Jim’s curse, and does it again.

Oswald’s hand wraps around his and drags it down, and Jim’s startled when he feels Oswald’s erection against his hand. Oswald bites down on his neck, carefully, as Jim wraps his hand around him. He gives a slow stroke, and Oswald squirms against him.

“Don’t break the skin,” Jim warns, and Oswald puffs out an irritated breath against Jim’s neck. “I mean it.”

“He won’t,” Ed assures, voice breathless. He throws his head back as he rides Jim, leaning back almost enough to topple off of Jim’s lap. With his free hand, Jim reaches out and grabs Ed by the waist, fingers digging into his skin. Ed flashes a sharp grin at him, before he sinks down at just the right angle and the smile is wiped off his face.

“Oh dear,” Ed says faintly, and his hand grips Jim’s bicep with surprising strength. In reaction, Jim tightens his hand around Oswald’s cock, and Oswald whines as he jerks his hips into Jim’s grip.

With a loud groan, Ed comes onto Jim’s stomach, thighs trembling with exertion as he continues to rise and fall in Jim’s lap. Ed gasps in air, hand tightening even further on Jim’s bicep, and his pace falters for a moment as he tries to recover.

Jim uses his hand on Ed’s waist to guide his continued movement, Ed’s eyes narrow to slits as he watches Jim, expression a cross between smug satisfaction and eager anticipation. Jim bites his lip just as Ed tightens around his cock and with a shout he comes inside of Ed.

He keeps his hand tight around Oswald’s erection, and Oswald fucks himself into the circle of Jim’s fingers a few more times before he comes as well, teeth pressing into the tendons of Jim’s neck.

With a satisfied groan, they all seem to sink down, sweat coating their bodies. Ed smiles, pleased, and leans in against Jim’s chest. Oswald shifts a little to the side to make room.

Jim finds himself staring down at the two men perched in his lap, feeling a little overwhelmed and confused by what just happened, even through the post-coital glow. The spot on his bicep where Ed was gripping is already darkening to a deep purplish hue, and he has no doubt it’ll bruise. Not to mention the certainly obscene hickey on his neck.

What the hell is he going to tell Harvey?

He’s going to lie.

Definitely.

He couldn’t even imagine telling him the truth. Jesus. Harvey would send him to Arkham himself.

“That was nice,” Ed says.

“I must admit I found it quite enjoyable,” Oswald says, voice slurred. “Despite the relatively impromptu circumstances.”

“Jim?” Ed asks.

He finds them both staring up at him suddenly, strangely in synch, and he blinks. “Yeah, it was…” his voice seems to fail him.

Two pairs of eyes look up at him, one very dark, the other very light. Weirdly, they both seem anxious suddenly, despite the afterglow. Jim’s lip twitches and he finishes quickly: “Yeah, it was really good.”

Oswald breaks out into a pleased grin. Ed’s is more smug and self-satisfied, but reluctantly, Jim finds both of them charming. He sighs, put-upon, and leans back against the chair.

“So…” Oswald says, voice quiet, fingers nervously stroking Jim’s chest. “If, perhaps, you wouldn’t find yourself _dis_ inclined…”

“What Oswald means to say is that we would both be amenable,” Ed rushes to say, “if you would perhaps be interested in a similar experience. In the future. Ideally, using a bed instead of a chair.”

Jim shuts his eyes and sighs harshly. He can practically feel the twin stares of anticipation burning on his skin.

He absolutely should not. This was a once in a lifetime deal, a bizarre sexual blip on his otherwise normal daily life. It’ll be hard enough the next time he has to look either of them in the face in a public setting, let alone if he were to repeat the experience--

“Yeah,” he says, cursing himself internally. “Yeah. Okay. When?”

“Call it next Friday?” Oswald suggests. “Perhaps when you’re off duty? I’ll have Gabe pick you up.”

“It’s really not necessary--”

“We insist,” Ed says. “It’s the least we can do to make things convenient for you.”

“Jesus, fine,” Jim says. “Why not. To hell with it.”

“That’s the spirit, Jim,” Oswald says cheerfully. “I’m so pleased you see it our way, my friend.”

“Yeah,” Jim says, “Great.”

And it kind of is, despite what he’d expect. It sort of really is.


End file.
